Earth 39: The Man Who Falls
by levi.a.sweeney
Summary: It's 1991, and Bruce Wayne begins his ten-year journey to make himself ready to save Gotham City from itself, going on an adventure which will result in an outcome that even he cannot predict. But we can.
1. Who He Is

"You take it back! Take it back now!"

Bruce landed another punch against the upperclassman's nose, his knee pressed into the older boy's sternum. It didn't occur to him, inflamed with rage as he was, that it would be difficult for the upperclassman to take back much of anything in that state.

Bruce was suddenly pulled off of his target by the strong grip of another boy.

"Cool it, Bruce!" said Harvey. "Just calm down!"

He struggled against Harvey's iron grip, but in vain. Bruce may have had more muscle than the average fourteen-year-old (fifteen in six days), but even someone as fit as he was couldn't compete with an all-state linebacker like Harvey.

As the cloud of anger began to depart from his mind, and the energy he had depleted while thrashing the upperclassman dissipated, Bruce inhaled deeply, patting Harvey on the forearm. "I'm… I'm done," he said to his friend. "I'm done."

Harvey released him, and Bruce stumbled forward, loafers squeaking on the hardwood floor of the boarding school's brightly lit gym. The upperclassman, a blond pretty boy named Devlin, was still lying on the floor, nose bleeding and sporting a lovely black eye. Bruce decided that the best he could do before Mr. Whisper showed up was to try and clean up the mess he'd made.

Alas, his regret came too late to result in effective action. Three teachers and Mr. Whisper (that's what the students at Brentwood Academy called Principal Winchester) were scampering towards the scene of the beating. To be accurate, the teachers were scampering. Mr. Whisper seemed merely to glide slowly across the floor of the gym, like a ghost. It was as if he had no feet, just as he often seemed to have no voice. Hence the nickname, "Mr. Whisper."

The teachers got to Devlin and helped him up. Thankfully, the boy was not quite out cold, though not for lack of trying on Bruce's part. Bruce, with Harvey behind him, tentatively approached the gaggle of teachers (two women and a man), while Mr. Whisper hovered behind them.

The teachers moved aside as Mr. Whisper came forward, inspecting the situation as if he were a butcher glancing over an order of meat that was about to be picked up by a customer. Turning to Bruce, not acknowledging Harvey, he spoke. "Mr. Wayne," he said, his voice piercing the air like a glass needle, "are you responsible for this affair?"

Bruce, who had just hit his growth spurt, stood up to the tall principal's shoulder. "I am, Principal Winchester," he said. "I began to… beat Devlin, after he made a crude joke about my mother."

"Ah," said Winchester, or Mr. Whisper, or the Principal. "The late Martha Wayne, wife of Thomas, I believe. Tell me, what did poor Devlin say?"

"I'd rather not repeat it."

"Just as well, dear boy," said the Principal. He turned away. "Please reserve these physical histrionics for the amateur boxing club." To one of the teachers, a pear-shaped woman with glasses, he said, in his thin, wispy voice, "Bring Mr. Davenport here to the nurse's office, and notify Mr. Wayne's guardian… Pennywise, it is?"

"Pennyworth, sir," said the bespectacled woman. Even the other teachers at Brentwood got uneasy when Mr. Whisper was around.

"Yes. Notify Mr. Pennyworth of his ward's less-than-gentlemanly behavior, and instruct the man to come and collect him." A quick glance over his shoulder at Bruce. "You are suspended for a week, Mr. Wayne." As he walked away, he said to the plump teacher, "Please ask Mr. Dent to cooperate with this incident's documentation."

Harvey glanced up at the mention of his surname, looking over at Bruce. Bruce waved a hand, saying, "It's okay Harvey. Just… tell them the truth. You saw it all."

"And I thought I'd seen it all."

Alfred Pennyworth's dulcet British tones broke the deafening silence that had filled Thomas Wayne's old study, that silence having been preceded by a short car drive from Brentwood equally devoid of speech. Bruce stood near a stone bust of Louis Pasteur that occupied the space near the piano, opposite the thick window, shaped like a glass tombstone. The late elder Wayne, having been a surgeon by profession, of course admired Pasteur, the great French physician.

_I wonder if he'd hold that same admiration for me after today_, thought Bruce.

Alfred continued to speak. "Master Bruce, you know full well that I allowed you to pursue your extracurricular activities to give you an outlet. I don't think your instructors at the dojo meant for you to abuse your physical prowess, even in such a situation as the one that occurred this afternoon."

Bruce made no excuse. Alfred was, of course, correct. That didn't mean he had to like it. "Yes, sir," he said. His anger had long since subsided, and he acted on it rarely, but when he did it was not pretty. "I'm sorry, Alfred."

Alfred sighed. "I'm not the one you need to say sorry to, young man." He turned to leave the study. "You are confined to your room until Saturday," he said. "You will also apologize to your schoolmate and offer to give restitution as soon as possible." And finally: "I am extremely disappointed with you."

Saturday, thought Bruce as he followed Alfred out of the study. Three days. He'd be out in time for his birthday party on Sunday, but he'd have to do extra studying to make up for the weekly test he'd be missing in AP Physics. Maybe Alfred would let him out in time for him to catch _Manstalker_ on WGBS.

Bruce glanced behind him at the stone bust near the piano. Pasteur's facial hair looked bushier than his father's. Dad had been talking about shaving off his well-groomed mustache on That Night. Alfred had dryly noted that they'd have to get a new family portrait. Mom had laughed.

In his room, Bruce laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. There was no television in his room, Alfred having made sure to enforce a limit on screen time, while providing plenty of opportunity for outdoor activities, and a healthy dose of reading.

Reading. Bruce glanced over at his bookshelf, and his eyes immediately darted over to the worn copies of his Sherlock Holmes collection. He went over and plucked Volume Two off the shelf and flipped to "The Valley of Fear."

Fear. False Expectations Appearing Real. Master Kirigi at the dojo downtown had told him that the word "fear" was an acronym representing those words. Bruce greatly respected Master Kirigi, and looked forward to the day when he would be allowed to call him by his first name.

An hour later, Bruce was a third of the way through "The Valley of Fear" when the door opened. It was Alfred, pushing a cart bearing a tray emanating with the scent of nachos, topped with melted sharp cheddar (hand-grated) and a bowl of salsa derived from mangos and yellow peppers. Bruce perked up as the smell made its way into his nostrils, and saw that Alfred looked just as pleasant.

"I thought you could use something to eat," said the butler, a green apron over his dark suit. "Now, what are Holmes and Watson up to at the moment?"

Bruce sat up on his bed, putting down his book while Alfred pushed the food cart over to the bedside. "They've just found out that John Douglas was murdered."

"I see. A sawed-off shotgun was the murder weapon, I believe?"

"Yes," said Bruce, who by now could recount the events of the story by heart. "But they haven't found out about the bloody footprint on the windowsill yet."

Alfred smiled, and took the cover of the tray off the platter, Bruce immediately reaching for one of the lovely chips. "I do appreciate such old books of that sort," the butler said. "They manage to be gripping without being lurid. Nowadays, relatively few authors know how to do the first without falling back on the second."

"Hm," said Bruce. "Perhaps the new millennium will see a return to form."

"Perhaps," said Alfred. "Provided that Y-2000 business I read about in the _Gazette_ blows over."

"Ha! No way. My physics teacher, Mr. Nichols? He was talking about that before class last Friday. It's a macro version of the War of the Worlds thing from the thirties."

"Have you read that one?"

"Yeah. It was okay."

Bruce munched on his nachos, holding a saucer under his chin to catch the crumbs, while Alfred did the same, only better. He did everything involving the table better than Bruce ever could.

Bruce glanced up at Alfred, who met his gaze. "Am I still grounded?" said the younger man.

"Oh, definitely," said the butler. "But," he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm sure you'll have mastered your lesson by then. Now, what did you learn from that lesson?"

Bruce swallowed a cheese-covered tortilla chip, before saying, "Have a thick skin, I guess."

"Quite," said Alfred. "Your anger, as righteous as it may have been, was not a constructive solution. You, after all, dealt the first blow."

Bruce smirked. "And the second and third."

A scoff from Alfred. "You don't have to remind me about your skills as a pugilist," he said. "Now, what could you have done instead rather than resort to violence?"

Bruce thought some more. "Ignore him," he said.

"Why?"

"…I don't know. It sounds like what someone like you, or Master Kirigi, or… or dad would do."

"Ah," said Alfred, wagging his finger. "Thomas Wayne would never stand for such a slight against his wife, or rather, his mother, I suppose." The butler bit down on a salsa-crowned chip, before swallowing the bite, and then continuing. "But he was a man of peace all his life, even in his days as a young, drunken wastrel. He would no doubt be moved to anger, but he'd think it most unbecoming to be moved to violence."

Bruce scrunched up his face in thought. "So what would he do?" he asked.

Alfred's wryness melted away, giving away a somber mood. "He would give back in accordance to what he had gotten. In a case like that this, he would issue a rebuke and forcefully demand such an apology. And should he get no such apology, he would refuse to associate with the man again until such an apology was given." Alfred, who had been standing near the cart, took a seat on the foot of Bruce's bed. "He was slow to anger, and quick to forgive, but nevertheless firm as a rock." He looked way for a moment, before turning back to Bruce. "I know it's a… hard teaching. But you must understand that retribution any variety should be in direct proportion to the offense, and preferably not given at all in cases like this."

"Don't some people deserve to be punished for things like that?"

"Undoubtedly," said Alfred, stroking his mustache. "But that's the rub, Master Bruce. Can anyone who is wronged be trusted to judge what the wrongdoer who harmed him 'deserves'? Is it not better for an impartial outsider, serving at the pleasure of all involved, to determine such a thing?"

Alfred shifted in his spot, and cleared his throat. "Once upon a time, I was a soldier. Like any good English schoolboy, I wanted to help fight the good fight. 'Pound them jerries into dust,' we would have said, or something to that effect."

"But… you didn't fight in World War Two, did you?" said Bruce. He was almost certain that Alfred wasn't that old.

"No," said Alfred. "Oh, but I wanted to. No, I did not fight the Nazis, but I jumped at the change to fight the Communists."

Bruce nodded, hoping to settle in for a good story. "In the Korean War?"

"Correct," said Alfred. "So I shipped out, barely past my eighteenth birthday. It… it was horrid. War may be a necessary evil, but it is still an evil. Tyrants must be stopped, and home and hearth defended, but that doesn't ever make it good. I found that out firsthand when I had to spend the night in a rain-soaked foxhole, with only the corpse of a fellow soldier for company. My sergeant had stayed behind to cover our squad's retreat, and he hadn't come back.

"After demobilization, when the POWs captured by the North Koreans were freed, I learned my sergeant's fate." Alfred swallowed hard. "He had been captured by the enemy, and was handed a POW card. The card read, 'You are about to die in the most painful way you can imagine.' Then the North Korean soldier who handed him the card shot him in the forehead."

Bruce blanched. He did not like this story very much.

But that didn't mean it wasn't interesting. "Did you ever find out who did it?" asked Bruce.

"No," said Alfred. "But I wished I did then. I wanted to find that man and make him suffer. Every soldier who served there thought the same about all the enemy, I imagine. …My sergeant was a good man, a brother and a father, both to his fellow soldiers and to his family. He… he was too good for this world." If Alfred felt trepidation as he told his story, he didn't show it.

"I talked to my chaplain about it," he continued, "and he was sympathetic, but gave me the wisest counsel I had heard in all my life. He asked me if I hoped the man who murdered my sergeant would go to Hell. I said yes. He asked why, and I said that he deserved it, because the man was a murderer. The chaplain then asked me if I hated the man. I said yes. He also asked me if I would be sorry if I killed him. I said no.

"He then asked if I thought I would go to heaven. Young, ignorant layman of the Church of England that I was, I said yes. He then reminded me of what Christ once said, that hating someone in your heart was the same as murdering them."

Alfred looked at Bruce. "The chaplain then asked me, 'If you were God, would you condemn one unrepentant murderer but pardon another?'"

Bruce was not so young that such a story would cause him to turn as white as a sheet. Instead, he asked the question at the forefront of his mind. "What does that have to do with Devlin?"

"It has to do with the fact," said Alfred, "that vengeance of any variety is meaningless. It is a very selfish mode of thought. You might feel better about yourself after pulverizing someone who wronged you, whether to a degree great or small, but what good would it do after that? Your anger is sated, but you still have to live with the consequences of your actions. If I had found the man who killed my sergeant and did him in, I would have to deal with the fallout, if not at the hands of men, then at the hands of God." Alfred glanced down at Bruce, who had long forgotten the plate of nachos. "May I ask if you believe in Him?" he said.

Bruce nodded, cocking his head to one side, looking contemplative. "Uncle Philip taught me to pray last Easter," he said. "And I've been saying my prayers since." And then: "Somebody's got to be listening."

A smile from Alfred, and a nod. "Very well. Now, do you understand?"

"Sort of… it's just that… if people can't be trusted to determine what they or a person who… wronged them, deserves, then who does? Doesn't the Bible say something like, 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?'"

"It's a good question, Master Bruce," said Alfred. A pause. "I suppose it all comes down to how you determine who ought to be responsible for administering justice."

"Justice being different from revenge."

"Precisely," said Alfred. "I was speaking with Mrs. Dawes, the maid, who mentioned something her husband told her, her husband being a lawyer. He said that justice is about harmony. It's about dealing out to people what they deserve. No one is wronged when that happens, and ergo, harmony is achieved. Revenge, he said, is just about making yourself feel better."

"So who ought to be responsible? For administering justice, I mean?"

Alfred only shook his head. "I only know that few men would faithfully execute that responsibility if given the power to do so, and those who would use that power justly are few in number, and are generally wise enough not to strive to obtain such power. Beyond that, final justice for all men lies in the hands of the Highest Authority, if only on the last day."

Alfred rose from his seat on the end of Bruce's bed, and turned to leave. "It is late," he said, "and you have extra studying to do tomorrow, to make up for your suspension. A physics test, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Bruce. "AP Physics." He remembered telling Alfred about it a few days ago. He was a good listener.

"Very well," said Alfred. "You can come down for dinner, before returning to your room. It should be ready in an hour, after which you will go to bed. Be sure to put the cart outside your door when you are finished with the nachos."

Alfred turned to go, and then glanced behind him as he stood in the ajar door. "It's fillet mignon tonight," he said. "I know you like that, Master Bruce."

Bruce nodded. "Thanks Alfred," he said. "For everything."

Alfred smiled, nodded, and said, "You're welcome, my boy."

After dinner, when Bruce had returned to his room, he kneeled at his bed. He wanted to pray.

Would anyone hear him? Would He, the Highest Authority, hear him? How would he know, one way or the other? The words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

Until they did.

"God…" he said, eyes closed and hands folded, as Uncle Philip had taught him. "I… I pray that you will give me the strength… the courage… the ability… to fight for justice and goodness. I want… I want to prevent what happened on… _that night_… from happening to anyone else, to anyone I have an opportunity to help. Help me to keep people like Alfred and Harvey safe. And help me… to be wise enough to be able do such things at all. Thy will be done."

He then turned out the light, and crawled into bed and went to sleep, already planning his new course of action.


	2. Birthday Boy

p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Devlin's father, Mr. Davenport, got along with Alfred a lot finer that either them had expected, and they agreed to negotiate a settlement between their respective dependents. It was Sunday, two days before Bruce's official birth date on February 19supth/sup, but nonetheless a convenient time to hold the birthday party./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Your boy," said Mr. Davenport to Alfred, "is a fighter. That's a good thing." Mr. Davenport was a a tall, stocky, balding Texan wearing a pair of rimless glasses. "Just make sure he doesn't go fighting people who don't need fightin'. I got the gist of what my boy said, and believe you me, if it were my mum he was talking about, I'd have gotten pretty hopping mad myself. But if your boy'll play nice, I'll make sure my boy does the same. Sound good?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Smashing," said Alfred, a wry smile on his lips. "Now, I believe I heard Master Bruce mention that he'd like to invite Devlin to his birthday party today, to make up for Wednesday's incident. Does that sound agreeable to you, Mr. Davenport?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""If it keeps them both playing nice, I don't see not," said Mr. Davenport. "Just make sure that Dev don't eat too much cake." He turned to lope back over to his car. "Just so long as he doesn't come home bawling like a dingo howling at the moon again. I'd get an earful from the missus if that happened… again."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"And so, Bruce, Harvey, and Devlin rode from Brentwood in the Rolls Royce that Alfred drove, arriving at Wayne Manor in Bristol./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Devlin had been chatting with Harvey on the way over. "You think the Knights will make it to the series this year?" he said as they got out of the car./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Maybe," said Harvey, "but they'd just squeak by. Their pitcher, Price, he's a bum, and they'll need to get some better left-fielders if they want to get serious."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""You think Price will get traded?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Maybe, but who would take him? He's almost thirty, and he hasn't been anyone's golden boy since his third year with the Astros, and that was eight years ago!"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I didn't know you were baseball fan, Mr. Dent," said Alfred, who had been walking with Bruce ahead of Harvey and Devlin./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Harvey coughed, before saying, "I keep track of baseball and football, and I've played both. I'm better at tossing the ol' pigskin around, but baseball has subtleties that I appreciate. Right Bruce?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yep," said Bruce. "It's a thinking man's game."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""But," said Alfred, "you play football?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah," said Harvey. "My coach says that I have the right body type for it."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Hm," said Alfred. "Are you a… ah, quarterback?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Oh! No," said Harvey, as they neared the white, stone steps of the manor. "Linebacker. I'm not fast enough to be a good quarterback."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Ah," said Alfred. "I see." This was a lie./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Later, the three boys and Alfred were in one of Wayne Manor's staterooms, where Harvey and Devlin were admiring a suit of armor that was on display in one corner. Bruce was talking with Alfred about the guest list./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Rachel will be here," said Alfred, "And Dawn, your cousin Kate, Zatanna, and Tommy will be arriving within the hour, as will your Uncle Philip. Mrs. Dawes will be assisting me in preparing dinner./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""What about Roman?" said Bruce./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred, just a little absentmindedly, raised an eyebrow. "Sionis?" he said./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yes, I wanted him to come."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Oh!" said Alfred, remembering something quite strange indeed. "Yes, he was on the list. I eh… attempted to reach him, but Mrs. Sionis said that he was unavailable."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Okay… Uh, why?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred squeezed his hands behind his back, though Bruce didn't notice. "They said it was a private matter," he said./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Hm," said Bruce. "Okay. I hope he's doing well."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred quickly moved to change the subject. "Mrs. Elliot will also not be coming."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Tommy's mom?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yes. Her caregiver called me last week, and said that she is scheduled for a second round of chemotherapy today. She is not well at the moment."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce looked at his shoes, just a little saddened. "I hope Tommy's mom gets better," he said. "I… I sometimes wish I could become a doctor, like dad, so I… so I could help people like her."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"A cheerful smile returned to Alfred's face. "A noble aspiration, Master Bruce," he said. "I believe young Master Thomas has expressed a similar aspiration."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah, he has," said Bruce. "Tommy says he wants to be a surgeon, like dad. He's just killing every AP class he can take at Gotham Academy."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Let's hope that he will one day kill brain tumors," said Alfred, nodding sagely. "Now, how about you get out the chess set?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;" align="center"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"***/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Check."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanBruce watched in silent glee as Harvey sized up the board. They had been playing each other at chess at least once a week since they had become roommates at Brentwood. Rachel, a petite, brown-haired girl, watched from over Bruce's shoulder, as did Dawn and Tommy. Dawn Golden, whose stark red hair was just a shade darker than Tommy's, squealed in delight./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""You've got him, Brucie!" she said./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I don't think he asked for a cheerleader, Dawn," said Tommy dryly./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""It's okay," said Bruce. "Thank you, Dawn."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""You're welcome," she said, patting Bruce on the shoulder. Bruce tensed at the touch. Tommy narrowed his eyes in Dawn's direction, observing the occurrence unobtrusively. His expression seemed to say, emInteresting…/em/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Over on the other side of the board, Devlin and Zatanna studied the game from over Harvey's shoulder. Or rather, Zatanna studied the game. Devlin was studying Zatanna./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The six teens were standing around or sitting at the dining room table, congregated around the chessboard, while Uncle Philip sat in an easy chair in the adjacent hallway, reading the Sunday edition of emThe/em emGotham Gazette./em The midafternoon light cast by the heatless, February sunshine illuminated the room from above, streaming through the windows of the high, gothic ceiling above the table. The whole affair was a five-minute walk from the foyer. Alfred and Mrs. Dawes were in the kitchen, preparing dinner./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Oh, move that pawn!" said Zatanna, pointing to one of Harvey's pieces. "If you do that, he—"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Shh, Z," said Bruce, waving a hand. "Let Harvey think."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""It's okay," said Harvey, glancing up at Zatanna. He flashed her the winning smile that had helped him win the election for Student Body President. "I was thinking the same thing, actually."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Harvey thought some more, and indeed moved the pawn in question to protect his king. Bruce leaned in, inspecting the chessboard intently. The move emwas/em good. Anything suggested by Zatanna generally was, especially when those things were executed by some as smart as Harvey./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"emspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Should I use my last knight to make a sudden thrust into his pawn-wall?/span/emspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" Bruce thought. emMaybe try and flank him with my queen on one side and my rooks on the other? Hmm… If I do that, I might expose my king to the risk of being cornered by Harvey's queen. He's lost a lot of pawns, but most of his big guns are still in play. At least I still have a bishop. Dang…/em/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""You gonna move, Bruce?" said Tommy./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce furrowed his brow. "It's okay, Tommy," he said. "I've got this."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Remember," said Tommy, his trademark smirk seeming to bleed into his voice, "I play winner. Even if it's you."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Hey!"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Kidding!" said Tommy, shaking his head, before bursting into a fit of snickering. "I'm just saying, your roommate is giving you a run for your money!"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Thanks, Tommy," said Harvey./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Just then, the doorbell rang. Bruce turned his head, almost certain who it was./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Master Bruce!" came Alfred's voice from the kitchen. "Can you get the door please?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sure, Alfred!" said Bruce, getting up his kneeling position on the carpet where the chessboard was. "Hang on a minute guys," he said./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce walked over to the front door, and opened it to find his favorite cousin./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Kate!" said Bruce in delight, embracing his smiling, older cousin as she came in through the door./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Hey, Bruce!" she said, squeezing him as she hugged back. "It's good to be here." Just then, Uncle Philip walked into the foyer, catching Kate's attention. "Oh, hi, Philip!" she said. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Katherine," said Uncle Philip, in his usual taciturn manner. But he cracked a smile, heading in Kate's direction. "How's Jacob?" he said, referring to his brother, Kate's father./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""He's doing fine," said Kate, nodding slowly. She shook hands with her uncle. "He… he says that he's sorry that he couldn't come, but he and mom needed to rest after their flight over from Germany."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce looked over at Kate, who was just a little taller than he was, broad-shouldered, red-headed, and with a sharp crew-cut. "Wait, Uncle Jake's back home?" he said as the three of them walked back to the dining room./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah," said Kate, as they entered the dining room. "He just got done with his last deployment, and he's been given a few weeks off before he has to go to D.C. for his new job."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Remind me," said Bruce, "what was he doing before he got back?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""He was doing something in Kasnia," said Kate. "Now that the Soviet Union's gone belly-up, former Warsaw Pact countries like Kasnia are scrambling to get their affairs in order. That's what dad says, anyway."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sounds cool," said Bruce. "What was he doing over there anyway?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""It's kind of top secret," said Kate. "My mom might know, but I don't. I do know that he emis/em done over there, and now that he's back in the states, he's going to get a desk job in the capital."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Your turn, Bruce!"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce suddenly remembered the game, and quickly apologized to Harvey, who was tapping his finger on the table, no longer wearing his winning smile. He looked tired, actually./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sorry, Harvey," he said, sitting down at the chessboard. Kate stood near Rachel, joining her, Dawn, and Tommy in looking over Bruce's shoulder./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Who's winning?" whispered Kate to Tommy as Bruce made his next move./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I think Bruce," Tommy whispered back. "But Harvey's not giving him an easy time."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Finally, a few moves and fifteen minutes later, Bruce made his coup de grace. "Check and mate!" he said, scooping up a rook with his queen and planting the piece into the appropriate spot./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Harvey smiled, and he and Bruce shook hands. He glanced over at Tommy. "So, you'll play Bruce now?" he said, offering his chair to Tommy./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Actually," said Bruce, "I'd rather wait after we eat, because we… my brain's kind of tired, that's all."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Huh," said Harvey. He held up his hands, saying, "No worries." Walking over to the cabinet in the foyer where the boardgames were stored (it was right next to the chair where Uncle Philip was sitting), he opened it up and got out a deck of cards that was there. "Anyone up for Texas Hold 'Em?" he said./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I'll play!" said Zatanna. "My dad taught me."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Me too!" said Devlin, glancing over at the dark-haired Zatanna. He then back-pedaled, saying, "I mean, I'd like to play Texas Hold 'Em, 'cause… well, my dad's from Texas, and he plays poker every weekend, and he… he… I watch him and I know—"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Never fear, Dev," said Harvey, clapping the blond upperclassman on the shoulder. "I'm game if you are, no pun intended."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""You play poker, Harv?" said Bruce./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah. Learned it from a book I got from the library. It's not all that hard once you know the rules. But man, I think I'd do better in a game of chance, you know? This is the second time in three weeks that you've handed me my—"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Dinner is served!" said Alfred, who had just come into the kitchen. "Clear the table please!"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"***/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The party was wonderful. Everyone loved dinner, which included roast pheasant, spaghetti calamari topped with pesto, a vegetarian salad containing avocados, tomatoes, roasted pecans, shredded parmesan cheese, and cucumbers (all fresh), and many other wonderful dishes./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanLater in the evening, around six o'clock, long after Bruce had blown out the candles of his birthday cake, the guests began to stream out. Devlin waited around long enough to finish his poker game with Harvey and Zatanna (Harvey won), before getting picked up by his father's valet. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When Zatanna had to go, Bruce slyly asked, "So, you need to get yourself home?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""…Yeah, I do," said she./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce grinned. "Say it backwards."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Zatanna shook her head, before heading out the door of the manor "'It backwards,'" she said, eliciting a chuckle from Bruce. Harvey and Tommy stood nearby, the former absolutely confused and the latter mildly amused. "My dad's picking me up," said Zatanna. "Besides, no reason to scare anyone." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"She smiled at Bruce, before saying goodbye to him. And to Harvey: "It was nice to meet you, Harvey." To Tommy: "Elliot."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tommy: "Zatara."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When she was gone, Harvey turned to Bruce, and said, "Dude! How come you never told me you were such a chick magnet?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanLater, the remaining guests gathered in the den, where a roaring fire was kindled. Uncle Philip was sitting in an easy chair near the fire, enjoying the warm hearth. Kate and Bruce were in another corner, Bruce quizzing Kate on her high school's ROTC program, and her plans to go to West Point after she graduated. Harvey and Rachel were having a friendly chat, though Rachel kept looking over in Bruce's direction, Harvey not noticing. Alfred and Mrs. Dawes had just finished cleaning up dinner, and were now taking a well-earned rest on one of the spacious den's sofas./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /spanBut Dawn was by herself, dozing in front of the fireplace, resting on a sheepskin rug that occupied the space before it. Cracking her eyes open, she looked around the room. They all seemed occupied. Rising from her resting place, she left the room, not unnoticed by Bruce./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"emspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Where's she going?/span/emspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" he thought, looking after her. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"And then: emGosh, that hair…/em/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""…so the lieutenant-colonel in charge of the thing told me that if I signed up," said Kate, "I'd get to go for free if I agreed to stay in the service for…" her voice trailed off, and she realized that her cousin was distracted. "Bruce?" she said. "You okay?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce returned his attention to Kate, as if struck by lightning. "Uh… yeah," he said, getting his wits back. "Um… yeah. Yeah, I need to go upstairs for a minute. I'll be right back."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Kate nodded, not a little puzzled, while Bruce briskly left the room, just in time to catch Dawn disappear around the corner that led to the staircase. He followed her, and managed to catch up with her. "Hey, Dawn!" he said. "I…" He had her full attention. "I, uh… do you…"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Don't you have a piano somewhere?" she said. A smile from her. "I'd like to play you a… song! Um, yeah, a song."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sure!" said Bruce brightly. "There's a piano in my dad's old study."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"They made their way to the study, and sure enough, there was the piano. Alfred had kept it in gleaming condition, in keeping with his strict dusting regimen. There was room on the leather bench in front of the table for two./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Dawn grinned. "Do you want to play a duet?" she said./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""…Yeah," said Bruce, closing the door of the study behind them, a satisfying emclick/em signaling the act. "Sure."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The two of them sat on the bench, and Dawn began to play "Happy Birthday," while Bruce played an accompaniment on the right side of the piano. Bruce was a competent pianist, but Dawn was an expert./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"She also had a lovely singing voice. "Happy birthday to you…" Dawn sang softly, her velveteen voice hanging in the air. "Happy birthday to you…" She looked over at her friend. Bruce joined her in the song, and found himself staring into Dawn's green eyes. They were like emeralds./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Happy birthday dear Brucie…" said Dawn./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Happy… birthday…" said Bruce, his cracking voice awkwardly matching Dawns./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"She leaned in. Bruce did too. He closed his eyes./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Just then, the door opened, /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce and Dawn jumped in their seats, Alfred silently striding up the piano. "Just checking up on you two," he said, absently-mindedly. "Thought you might have gotten lost." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce gulped. He hadn't planned on… anything like… He didn't want to think about that./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Dawn blushed heavily, but her mind was as quick as a gazelle. "I was just showing Brucie how to play 'Happy Birthday'!" she said, no small degree of pep in her voice. "Is there a song you'd like to hear, Alfred? I know a lot of them."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred raised an eyebrow, his affected absentmindedness giving way to sincere kindness. "That would be lovely, Ms. Golden. Do you know the overture for emThe Marriage of Figaro/em? By Mozart?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"An internal breath of relief filled Bruce's lungs. Of course Dawn knew that one. He and Alfred had been present at Dawn's recital of the piece for a junior high talent show two years ago. Dawn had come in second place. Bruce had played Pachelbel in Canon D in the same event. emThank you for being a good listener, Alfred/em, he thought./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Sure!" said Dawn. "Why don't you ask the others if they want to hear it?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Certainly," said Alfred, choosing his words with a calculated precision. "emWe /emwill go ask them."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"So the three went back downstairs, Bruce with his hands in his pockets, and Alfred voiced the idea of going upstairs to the library to hear Dawn play something on the piano. Everyone there, being in a pleasant, contented mood, eagerly agreed to do so, except for Uncle Philip, who had fallen asleep in front of the fire. It was a quarter past seven./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"In the study, Dawn played the piece from emFigaro/em, much to the pleasure of the guests, especially to Bruce. He loved it when Dawn played. He loved it when she sang. He loved it when she talked./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When Dawn and finished the exciting, energetic piece, the assembled persons –Harvey, Rachel, Kate, Mrs. Dawes, and Alfred— all clapped politely. Uncle Philip, however, had just come upstairs at the tail-end of the piece, and stepped up to Alfred, whispering his ear. Alfred nodded, and went over to Dawn. "Miss Dawn," he said, "your father has arrived to collect you."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"An imperceptible twitch rippled across Dawn's face, but only Bruce caught it. "Thanks, Mr. Alfred!" she said. Getting of the piano bench, she gave Bruce a tight, awkward hug, saying to him, "Happy birthday, Brucie!"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Harvey suppressed a laugh, but was unable to hold it in. "Ha! 'Brucie!'" he guffawed, while Rachel stood nearby, giving Dawn a look that, if translated, would probably mean something like, emBack off, you floozy. I was here first. /emKate just rolled her eyes./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"As soon as Dawn had left, Alfred excused Mrs. Dawes for the night, sending her home with Rachel. Uncle Philip announced that he had to get home to check on his wife, Bruce's aunt. She was pregnant with their daughter, and he needed to get home to check on her./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Say hi to Aunt Leah for me!" said Bruce as Philip walked out the door./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Uncle Philip turned to Bruce, and smiled broadly, the thirty-seven-year-old man wearing an expression normally reserved for indolent grandfathers. "I will, Bruce. Thank you."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"After that, Kate said goodbye to Bruce, after tight hug, she also left./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The only people who now remained in the house were Bruce, Alfred, and Harvey. It was seven o'clock./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred let out a big yawn, after which he checked his watch, and said, "It is getting late, dear boys, and I believe you need to get back to Brentwood, Mr. Harvey."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Can't Harvey spend the night?" asked Bruce./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""I'm sorry, but no," said Alfred. "The, eh… logistics of such a proposal make such a course of action unfeasible. Perhaps some other time./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce quickly decided not to argue the point with Alfred (an argument on his birthday was the last thing he wanted), but he did try to bargain down. "Can I ride with Harvey and you to the school?" said he./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred did agree to that. Ten minutes later, they were on the road to Brentwood, with Harvey carrying a to-go box with an extra piece of chocolate cake in it./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""So you're back Thursday?" said Harvey to Bruce./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah," said Bruce. "Here's hoping that Mr. Whisper can forgive and forget."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Not likely," snorted Harvey. "I've heard that some of the people the principal has suspended just don't come back."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah…" said Bruce, and he and Harvey both felt a chill go up their respective spines in the heated Rolls Royce. Bruce then turned to Harvey, saying, "So, it looked like you and Rachel were getting along pretty fine, eh?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Oh, uh… yeah," said Harvey. "Yeah, she… we have a lot in common, actually."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Oh? Like what?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Well, did you know she likes emThe Gray Ghost/em?"?/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Yeah. She and I watch it together every Saturday morning in the den when her mom comes in to help Alfred around the house."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Oh!" said Harvey, flashing a sly grin. "Really…?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""It's not like that!" said Bruce, shaking his head. "She… she's a good friend."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Uh huh," said Harvey. "I hope you told Dawn that." This remark earned Harvey a gentle sock in the arm from Bruce./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When they finally got back to Brentwood, Harvey and Bruce said their goodbyes, Alfred escorting Harvey into the boarding school, before returning to the Rolls./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"It was almost five minutes after they'd left before Bruce finally said something aloud. "Thank you, Alfred."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Alfred looked at Bruce in the rearview mirror. "Your welcome, Master Bruce. For what, may I ask?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Bruce leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, a look of what could only be described as wistful melancholy on his face. "The perfect day," he said. Adjusting his position, he clasped his hands together, gulped, and looked up./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; text-indent: .5in; line-height: 200%;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;""Alfred?" said Bruce. "I have something to tell you."/span/p 


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